A Steel Magnolia's Guide to Coping With Mutation
by Sweet Audrina
Summary: An in-depth look at Charles Xavier’s School For Gifted Youngsters through the eyes of one of its chief citizens, Rogue. Chapter 6 is up!
1. Rogue

A Steel Magnolia's Guide to Coping With Mutation (And Life In General)  
By: Sweet Audrina  
Summary: An in-depth look at Charles Xavier's School For Gifted Youngsters through the eyes of one its chief citizen, Rogue. Post "X2", so don't look if you don't want to be spoiled.  
Rating: PG-13 for various uses of the word "fuck" and other charming 4-letter words.  
Disclaimer: I wash my hands clean of this, it don't belong to me, obviously.  
Authors note: I haven't touched X-men fanfiction in a very long time, but I hope you all like this piece of tripe what I wrote! This one is for Debby, who I have been talking to ever since I did "Days of Our Lives" fanfiction. On with the story! Oh, look for the "Chicago" reference in this! Oh and I am not a X-men expert yet, so I pretty much guessed which classes they take in the school and who teaches them. Let that be a warning flamers, I already owned up to my inadequacies with details.  
Virgin diary entry of Rogue, X-woman, and newly empowered female (emotionally)  
  
I wake up every morning to the reverberating snores of my fellow roommates, and sometimes I wonder where the hell I am. Of course, it sets in that I am sharing a room with three other girls, and I live at a learning institution. Sick days are really hard to get hold of when you live in a school. Used to be that every time I was slightly ill or just faking it, my parents wouldn't even question me and I would be living large at home sipping green kool-aid and watching "Passions". It's different here.  
Usually we were subjected to Dr. Grey's rigorous examination and nothing short of malaria or menstrual cramps could get us a free day's rest. Now it's Dr. McCoy's rigorous examination and menstrual cramps don't count as a life threatening illness. I hate men. I really hate men a lot.  
I put the breaks on the already grandma-paced relationship that I was having with Bobby Drake. I just can't explain it, he's sweet and nice, but ever so...is boring the word I am looking for? Yes, he's boring. Boring as in, Scott Summers's lectures on the mating habits of whatever Latin-named bug he is talking about for whatever lesson plan his grief-stricken mind can cook up.  
It really is sort of pathetic, even though she was his true love and all. I'm sure that he was more in love with her than she with him. She had that roving eye that set square on Logan. I hated her for that. For holding onto his heart with an iron fist, leading him on like a bull with a nose ring. Sometimes, in the darkest of my thoughts, I just wished she'd go away. Not die, mind you, just go away. Well, she went away all right. I doubt she'll be paying any of her former lovers a call any time soon.  
What was my consolation prize for not holding Logan's heart? Safe sweet Bobby, who never says no. It was sweet for a while, but like all young lovers, one has to get bored with the other eventually. I was bored for a long time without knowing it. Dead bored.  
Things have changed around here with the two blue additions we acquired. Dr. Hank McCoy is a good person I suppose, despite his indifference to feminine discomfort. Aside from being the school nurse he also teaches chemistry. Kurt Wagner, who I owe my life to, got to start his own religion class in the school. It's an elective, and since he saved me, and all, I took it.  
I swear I will not rest until I hear wedding bells for Ms. Monroe and Kurt Wagner. They seriously have so much tension that you would need a chainsaw to cut through it. Despite the fact that he's blue and she's not, they would be a very good couple. I see my life work before me, with Kitty and Jub's help of course.  
Now I have to go into something that is slightly disturbing. Logan is trying to help around the school by being a teacher, which is fine. The disturbing thing is he being a home economics teacher. Home-EC, for the uneducated among you, is where usually female teachers try their hand at domesticating other females through baking mostly crap, anally showing them how to set a table, and sewing. Logan is teaching this class.  
His other class is gym, which is quite advantageous for us girls who want to gape at him in typical gym teacher clothes that would ordinarily look wrong on the stereotypical over fifty, balding, beer belly instructor. My, but Logan has gorgeous legs!  
He, unfortunately for the asthmatics of the school, smokes like a chimney through both the classes he teaches. It's particularly humorous when he is giving the required lecture about how smoking affects pregnancy, and how it kills your insides, I am waiting for the day where he declares the lecture a "whole bunch of heaping bullshit" and promptly passes out a box of his coveted cigars to the class.  
Now, while I'm on the subject of bad boys, we have a new arrival at the school, (yet again!), some Cajun boy named Remy LeBeau. He hasn't arrived yet, but from what I heard, Ms. Monroe had to go through a whole lot of trouble to get him here. I also hear that he's a thief, and not much to look at. I am not really dying of curiosity, because one of the other rumors floating around was that he was a chauvinistic womanizing man-slut. I really have had enough of those.  
I've really got to go now; the whole school has to give Remy a big welcome at a required assembly.  
"Rogue"  
End of Chapter 


	2. Remy

Disclaimers: See chapter 1  
Authors Note: Thanks so much for the positive response! I am really enjoying writing this; it's sort of a break from all the gloomy stories I have been known to send out into the world. In this chapter we will meet Remy LeBeau, a devilishly charming man that we all know and love, and watch as he charms and corrupts our darling Rogue. We will also see that Logan's feelings for her aren't as platonic as we've been led to believe. Oh, and this chapter is not like chapter one, in that it's in 3rd person format, and not one of Rogue's diary entries, which I will be posting here and there throughout the story.  
Remy LeBeau was the be all and end all as far as attractive young men went. The second his charmingly kissable lips curved into a lazy grin as he faced the inhabitants of the institution, he set off a chain of simultaneous sex fantasies into the heads of every teenage girl that could breath in that school.  
"Oh no.....he's beautiful," Rogue breathed to Kitty and Jubilee. They, however, were not paying attention to Rogue's observation, for Remy had looked in their direction with his intense reddish eyes, and smirked. Not just any smirk, he gave them a patented bad-boy smirk.  
"I hear he speaks French," Jubilee sighed. Kitty giggled at this, and Rogue couldn't help but roll her eyes at their silliness.  
"Children, I am going to select one of you to take Remy under your wing until he adjusts to this new environment. Any volunteers?" Professor Xavier announced.  
A plethora of distinctly female hands shot up into the air in unison. The boys were all grumbling in displeasure, and not a one of them raised their hands into the air.  
"Rogue, I think I can trust you to keep your hormones in check, would you be so kind as to be Remy's temporary tour guide?" Rogue shot the Professor an astonished look.  
"I'm pretty sure I can, sir."  
"Excellent! Now everyone else report to your classes. Rogue, you will be excused from your first hour class so that you can show young Mr. LeBeau around, but please don't take too long, you know how Professor Logan hates tardiness."  
Rogue noticed for the first time that Logan hadn't come to the assembly; he never arrived to witness things like this anyway. He only liked giving the students ideas for hazing the new children.  
Once Professor Xavier took his leave of the silent pair, Rogue decided to speak up.  
"So, what's your schedule?"  
"One moment, please," Remy replied, before running one hand through his longish auburn hair, and using the other hand to dig through the pockets of his jeans. He retrieved a crumpled up piece of paper.  
Rogue wanted to jump up into the air in giddy happiness when she saw that he shared every single class with her. A whole entire day knowing that perhaps for one second those burning, beautiful eyes would be set on herself, pure Heaven in the form of a six foot five, elegant but powerful bodied teenage boy.  
"What is your real name, doux?" He asked in that devastating mix of French and Southern.  
"What does "doux" mean?"  
"Sweet."  
"I don't like that...but my real name is Marie. Do you have a mutant code name?"  
"It's Gambit. Would you prefer I call you cher?"  
"What does that mean?"  
"Dear, or expensive, whichever you'd like to be."  
"I'd like to think that one is the same as the other." Remy chuckled at this.  
Rogue was wrestling with two conflicting feelings just then. One, which was rational and good, told her to blow him off and resist his nearly irresistible charm. He is a very bad sort, her rational part told her, and he'll just hurt you. The romantic side of her was cooking up a lot of scenarios that resulted in a cure for her dangerous powers leading to an interlude that would prohibit her from walking straight for an entire week.  
I-I think we'd better start the tour," she declared a bit too quickly. Her face was flushed, and it was his damn sensual laugh that had done her in.  
Rogue conducted most of the tour without even meeting his gaze, which she felt burning into her back. She knew that if she met his eyes she would get all girlishly flustered once again and it would probably be all too obvious what her thoughts were.  
"These are the gardens, and beyond the gardens are the riding stables...d-do you like horses?"  
"Why do you wear gloves?" Remy inquired, ignoring her question entirely. Rogue turned to him and self-consciously drew her hands behind her back and clasped them together.  
"Because if I didn't, and I happened to touch someone, they might die."  
"Ah."  
  
Rogue was relieved to see that his face didn't take on the sympathetic and or frightened look that most people made when she revealed her powers. He just...shrugged. It seemed to her like it was the right thing for him to do.  
"And what do you do, Mr. LeBeau?" Rogue asked with a teasing tone to her voice.  
"I blow things up, cher," was his dry, nonchalant response.  
"Oh, well we have plenty of that sort here."  
Soon they were back in the mansion, hurrying upstairs to home economics. Remy made a bold gesture, and took her gloved hand into his. Rogue quickly jerked away.  
"What do you think you're doing?"  
"I'm walking you to class, I'd like to from now on."  
  
Rogue felt a familiar heat rise to her face, but also felt touched to the heart. No one had ever made that sort of gesture towards her before.  
"You can carry my books if you want," she answered, handing him the ample stack she had been carrying.  
"As you wish."  
Logan's improvisational speech on the correct brand of condoms to purchase before engaging in safe intercourse (He was supposed to be talking about abstinence!) was interrupted by the arrival of Rogue and Remy. His looks darkened when he observed how his Rogue was smiling gratefully at the new kid, as he returned his books to her.  
"Have a seat," he ordered in a little harsher tone than what was needed.  
"Professor Logan, this is-"  
"Save it, I know who he is. Now class, the words "ribbed for her pleasure" are very important..."  
While Logan continued his speech, Rogue slipped a sheet of paper in Remy's direction. He read it, and nodded to her, which made her small smile widen into a sparkling grin.  
After class was dismissed, Logan paced grumpily about the room. He really hated being a teacher. His pacing ceased when Rogue appeared.  
"Sorry I was late today," she apologized.  
"Hey that's alright, the Professor told me you would be."  
"I didn't mean to make you mad."  
He raised an eyebrow at that, and went for his cigar box.  
"You didn't," he replied gruffly, offering her a cigar. She took it, gratefully. One thing that she had obtained from sucking out most of Logan's life force was his affinity for cigars. When he would offer her one, it was always the prelude to a heart-to-heart talk.  
"Shouldn't you be getting to class?"  
  
"It's a study hall this hour."  
  
"You wouldn't want to keep the Cajun waiting, would you?"  
  
"You could tell?"  
  
He laughed dryly, without any mirth, and nodded.  
  
"Oh yeah. You're easier to read than a Dr. Seuss book, kid."  
  
"I really sort of like him, and he's really nice to me."  
  
"He only wants one thing, kid."  
  
"You know that he can't have it, nobody can."  
  
"Does he know he can't?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Then I guess he must be a good kid."  
  
After a long pause, and after they had both finished their cigars, Rogue asked, "So if he wants to date me, I have your blessing?"  
"No, do what you want, but if he breaks your heart, I'll break his neck." Rogue threw her arms around Logan and carefully embraced him.  
"I love you, Logan!"  
  
"Oh, come on, none of this. Go be with that silly kid before half the female student body gets to him first," Logan grumbled, gently pushing her away. She was off, and away.  
Logan noticed a crumpled piece of paper near the table where Rogue had been sitting across from that boy. He curiously picked it up, her scent unmistakably clinging to it.  
I KNOW A REALLY GREAT PLACE IN THE CITY FOR DANCING, WANT GO WITH ME TONIGHT? KITTY AND JUBILEE ARE COMING TOO. IF IT'S A YES, DON'T TELL ANYONE, ADULTS WILL KILL US. IF IT'S A NO, DON'T TELL ANYONE, ADULTS WILL KILL US. THE PLACE IS CALLED "THE DIG". --ROGUE  
  
Logan felt his anger rising. Anger mixed with...jealousy? No, it was just the fact that Rogue would be sneaking off with some boy who would probably end up hurting her. It was the fact that the city was a dangerous place to be at night, and that she had obviously snuck off to this great place before.  
Oh, they would go to their little club and dance with a bunch of creeps, namely the Cajun, but Logan would be close at their heels making sure nothing happened to Rogue...and the other girls of course. 


	3. Let's Talk Dirty to the Animals!

Chapter 3 of "Steel Magnolia's Guide to Coping with Mutation"  
  
Authors note: This chapter starts out as a diary entry and slips into 3rd person. Lovely things occur in this lovely chapter, in which Rogue and her two pals prepare for the dance club, they sneak out after a close call, and Remy and Logan both get bit by the angry jealousy bug as club-owner flirts with our southern darling. Will have a few song mentions here and. Oh, and I mentioned Buffy in this one.  
  
Diary entry two: Preparing for the club.  
  
I have been having many, many fantasies about going to "The Dig" with Remy. Most of them are of us dancing to a slow Cibo Matto song in manner of Buffy and Xander in an extremely close proximity to one another. That would be divine...  
  
The sneak-out is minutes away, but I have to divulge the details of the events leading up to this very moment.  
  
Two hours ago, Kitty and Jubilee were helping me prepare for what they called "an old-fashioned date with chaperones and everything". When they were tearing up my wardrobe with the pure drive of a pack of evil satanic lionesses in heat, it occurred to me that nothing seemed appropriate to wear in front of Remy, or inappropriate, rather.  
  
I never had this problem with Bobby before. I think it's because even when we were going out, I always felt like he was more of a safe friend, and I really needn't have bothered with trying to impress him. I think with Remy it's more of really needing to make him look at me, I mean really look at me.  
  
Somewhere in my wardrobe laid a pair of black fishnet stockings, which I think was left over from when John had convinced a group of us to dress as characters from "Rocky Horror Picture Show" a year back. I miss John. I have this recurring image of him crashing the school choir concert with his rendition of "Let's Talk Dirty to the Animals" originally sung by Gilda Radner, the funniest woman who ever breathed. I wonder what he's up to right now? Does he sing that song for Magneto? I highly doubt that HE would think it was funny, maybe Mystique would, I'm not sure.  
  
Anyway, the fishnets were selected as the first part of my ensemble. Thus followed by a pair of boots that Jubilee stole from the uniform room after learning how to infiltrate its tight security. She has been working on breaking into the Danger Room for about a year or so. With the boots came what looked like a vintage nurses uniform, except it was black and probably way shorter than regulation length was back in the day. Kitty informed me that "Hot Topic" had a sale on those, but she'd never worn it before because she thought it was ugly. Thanks Kitty.  
  
As Jubilee worked my hair into a series of complicated twists at the top of my head, the radio in our room started playing hits from the 60's, 70's, 80's, and 90's just like the obnoxious voice on that station so loudly promised every time he got to speak. Kitty was engaging in a marvelous rendition of Cher's "The Shoop Shoop Song" with a discarded hairbrush as her microphone and a disheveled twin bed as her stage, when the door flew open. She shrieked, fell smack on her behind, and sunk through the floorboards accidentally. The indignant male cries told me that the boy's bathroom was right below us, and it was shower time for them.  
  
"I've been informed that I must tell you ladies to shut your pie- holes by a few disturbed geeks who need to study," Logan growled. His eyes widened a bit when he saw what I was wearing, and how much makeup I had applied.  
  
"We're just having a little makeup party, Professor Logan," Jubilee lied. I could tell he didn't believe her; in fact, it almost looked like he KNEW what was going on. That couldn't be possible though, Remy wouldn't squeal to him about our plans.  
  
"Ladies..." He started to leave, but was nearly knocked down as Kitty zoomed into the bedroom, face bright red, and tears of laughter rolling down her cheeks. She cast one frightened look at Logan before slamming the door in his face.  
  
"I saw Bobby's PENIS!" She shrieked, not realizing that a closed door wasn't sufficient enough cover from prying ears, namely Logan's. Jube's and I frantically tried to shush her.  
  
All we heard from the other side of the door was a soft chuckle, and then footsteps as Logan headed back to his room.  
  
Well, that's all of the strange happenings before the big dance, and it looks like we're all ready to go. Will write soon, and maybe next entry I will be bragging about my new boyfriend!  
  
"Rogue"  
  
Part of Logan was expecting "The Dig" to be some pastel, crepe papered, mirror-balled parody of a high school dance, not unlike the one that had been thrown at the mansion not long ago. He was quite mistaken, however.  
  
"The Dig" looked very much like some of the underground clubs he had seen in his travels. Smoke, liquor, blinding flashing lights, and loud "not high school" acceptable music assaulted his senses from the second he crossed the threshold. He frantically scanned the crowd for his familiar brunette and her band of bubble-headed pals.  
  
Fortunately, they weren't that far ahead of him in the club, just far enough away for him to go unnoticed. His blood started a slow boil when his eyes fell upon Rogue's gloved hand lightly touching Remy's ungloved one.  
  
The boil accelerated quite a bit more when a slick looking man with oily blonde hair, and a button up shirt made of frighteningly bright material walked up to Rogue and boldly gave her behind a quick grope. He moved in for the kill, but the Cajun shared a similar feeling of outrage and got to him first.  
  
"Keep your filthy hands off of her!" Remy had grabbed hold of the man's collar. Rogue immediately tried to pull the man's shirt free.  
  
"Remy, he owns this place, and we know each other, it's okay! Tell him, girls!"  
  
"She's right, Remy. Jake is a friend of ours, he always sexually harasses us, and we do the same," Jubilee explained calmly. Surprising to Logan, Remy released his hold on the man. It would've taken more than that weak excuse to pry Logan's claws from that man's stomach, had he been there instead of the Cajun.  
  
"Sorry about that, kid. I guess I should've warned you about the little running gag the girls and I have going on, that Bobby kid she used to go out with seemed okay with it..." Jake gave the girls a small wave, and walked away.  
  
That's because "that Bobby kid" was a pussy, Logan thought.  
  
He watched them sit at a tiny round table off to the side of the dance floor. It seemed as if legal drinking age didn't matter, because Logan identified the drinks that were placed at their table as: rum and coke, a Bloody Mary, a Screwdriver, and for Rogue, several shot glasses of Tequila. He had given her such good taste in drinks.  
  
"Hey, Remy, why don't you and Rogue go get your groove on right now, " Kitty suggested playfully as the sounds of "Brick-house 2003", as sung by Rob Zombie, started filling the air.  
  
"Yeah, this is one of Rogue's favorite song," Jubilee added. It wasn't, but Rogue was willing to play along.  
  
"Would you care to dance, cher?" Remy inquired.  
  
"Well you know...yes."  
  
The very millisecond that Rogue's body started to sway to the fast paced song, Logan had been caught in some kind of trance. For a while he could ignore the other figure dancing VERY closely next to, and just concentrate on the flawless flow that her body took as it was in motion. Logan wasn't one to get deep or anything, but it was like poetry to him.  
  
The trance was interrupted when he spied Remy's hand resting on Rogue's hip. Now the dance turned into the opposite of poetry. Now it was a cruel taunt. That damn Cajun seemed so smug to have such a beautiful girl practically making love to him through dance. They were both smug, knowing that no one else on the floor could dance quite as well as the two of them together.  
  
Then it happened. Remy's lips quickly brushed against Rogue's before he could feel the pull of her powers. That quick little kiss was the final nail in the coffin for Logan; he couldn't sit and watch this unfold any longer. He walked towards them in quick, long strides, Kitty and Jubilee saw him before the other two could, and they paled to roughly the shade of flour.  
  
"Party's over, children," Logan announced in an icy voice.  
  
End of Chapter.  
  
In case any of you were wondering what the song "Let's Talk Dirty to the Animals" was, here are the lyrics for your reading pleasure. I would also suggest downloading it!  
  
LET'S TALK DIRTY TO THE ANIMALS  
  
A rooster says Good Morning With a "Cock-a-doodle-doo" - Good Morning! A horse's neigh is just his way Of saying, "How are you". A lion growls "Hello" And owls ask "Why" and "Where" and "Who". May I suggest you get undressed And show them your wazoo - Oh,  
  
The animals, the animals, Let's talk dirty to the animals Fuck you, Mister Bunny Eat Shit, Mister Bear. If they don't love it, they can shove it Frankly, I don't care - Oh,  
  
The animals, the animals, Let's talk dirty to the animals Up yours, Mister Hippo Piss off, Mister Fox. Go tell a chicken "Suck my dick" an' Give him Chicken Pox - Oh,  
  
The animals, the animals, Let's talk dirty to the animals From birds in the treetops To snakes in the grass - But, Never tell an alligator "Bite my..." No! Never tell an alligator "Bite my..." Yes! Never tell an alligator "Bite my... snatch. 


	4. Heathers, Remy's makeover, and an answer

A Steel Magnolia's Guide to Coping with Mutation  
  
Chapter 4  
  
Authors note: Bad author! I apologize mostly to Debby, because she was really vocal about me not updating for a while. "Heathers" is going to be mentioned in this chapter, and there is going to be a Halloween dance in the chapter after this! Yippee!  
  
"Oh my sweet Jesus, he's going to kill us," Kitty whispered to Jubilee in the most terrified voice she could muster.  
  
"No, Rogue's going to die, she's the lucky one."  
  
"Excuse me ladies, I can hear you, and nobody is going to get tortured, maimed or killed...except maybe the Cajun," Logan explained. His voice was very calm, but also at the same time, nearly vicious.  
  
"I don't recall Rogue telling me that she had a father," said Remy in a mocking tone.  
  
"Oh...Remy...no..." Rogue murmured, placing her hands over her blushing face.  
  
"I think it's time for you all to go home. Rogue, you're coming with me." Thankfully, Logan chose to ignore Remy's smug statement. It didn't stop him from wanting very badly to beat the boy's beautiful face in; his hands were shaking from that nearly overwhelming urge.  
  
Remy stepped closer to Logan, his anger rising.  
  
"I don't think-"  
  
"Remy, believe us, just let it be," Kitty interrupted, pulling Remy away from the danger zone that was Logan's personal space.  
  
Rogue was silently thankful that Logan had not taken the motorcycle with him for this little "Rogue retrieving" adventure. That was probably due to the fact that Scott had hidden it not long after Logan had returned from Canada. During Scott's lesser moments of mourning for Jean, he gloated that Logan would be looking for the bike until the day he died, because Scott had picked the most perfect place of all to stash it.  
  
"The lunatic probably has it in his closet," Rogue had mumbled as she left her teacher in the hall, smiling over his spur of genius.  
  
"You shouldn't have let him kiss you," Logan said quietly, as they drove along home. Rogue rolled her eyes from the passenger side of the Focus, Logan's vehicle of choice.  
  
"Nothing happened, Logan."  
  
"Something could've happened."  
  
"Maybe not. I've been working on controlling my power, and it's turning out pretty well."  
  
"That's not what I was talking about."  
  
"You're not my father."  
  
"Damn right I'm not you're father."  
  
"What's that supposed to mean?"  
  
Shit. She suspected something. Logan's brain coughed up a fairly lame cover-up.  
  
"I don't like your father."  
  
Rogue just smiled.  
  
"Don't smile. I'm still pretty mad at you."  
  
Her smile faded.  
  
"Why? Because I have a boyfriend whose not afraid to touch me? Jealous, are you?"  
  
"That's sick, darlin', why would I be jealous?"  
  
Rogue, feeling bold, leaned in, and paused inches from his ear.  
  
"Because, I think you saw something you liked when you found out how I looked tonight. Hot enough for you, sugar?"  
  
He applied the brakes roughly. Rogue's body jerked forwards a few inches, and then back into her own side of the car.  
  
"We're home," he announced in a gruff tone, leaving the car as quickly as he could. By time Rogue got out, he was already heading inside the mansion.  
  
"Rogue one, Logan zip," she murmured to herself, triumphantly.  
  
Sunday nights in the mansion were dreaded by the male inhabitants who prized the rec room as their sanctuary, especially during football season. By now, the whole ritual was like going through the motions. The mock struggle they put on as several odd teenage girls shoved them off of the couches with brute strength, to the loud protests they made as they retreated, off to find a different television set on which they could watch their precious games.  
  
Sunday night was "Heathers" night for the girls of the school. Down the stairs they would march, all clad in their various forms of sleepwear, all clutching bowls of ice cream, and one liter bottles of Diet Coke.  
  
Their eager faces would be glued to the screen as they viewed what they called "The Greatest Story Ever Told, with bombs and a young Christian Slater". The boys who were brave enough to stay behind during this ritual told the others of their mentally scarring experience with vivid details:  
  
"They were all reciting the lines as the movie went on...but it was spooky because they did it all in this weird monotone voice, and they wouldn't blink! They wouldn't blink! Why, God, why?"  
  
"I hear that's not Diet Coke they have in their bottles...its draining fluid!"  
  
"That is some freaky Jim Jones shit!"  
  
None of the boys seemed to realize that draining fluid was blue.  
  
Remy wandered into the rec room by accident one night, and the screen caught his attention.  
  
"I love this movie."  
  
All of their heads turned rapidly in unison, looks of astonishment upon their acne-masked faces.  
  
"Y-you like "Heathers"?"  
  
"I'm a no rust build-up kind of man, myself," he replied, provoking a chorus of squeals. An empty spot on the couch suddenly appeared, just for his own personal use.  
  
"Can I braid your hair?" The girl sitting next to him asked shyly, her eyes wide in admiration.  
  
"Sure. I do believe my nails could use buffing as well."  
  
"Well, now you've gone and done it..." Rogue remarked in an amused voice as the girls celebrated the arrival of their new "guinea pig".  
  
After the movie, Rogue and Remy ended being the last two people sitting in the rec room. There was ample space between them on the couch.  
  
"Rogue, the Halloween dance is coming up you know."  
  
"I know."  
  
"I didn't ask anybody yet, cher."  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"I want to take you."  
  
"Yes!"  
  
Rogue's grin nearly broke her face. She gave him a quick hug, and bounded out of the room. Remy felt very satisfied with the answer, considering she said "yes" even with all the makeup the girls had piled on his face in an attempt to make him look like Ziggy Stardust.  
  
End of Chapter 


	5. Evil Hair Bleach and the Halloween Dance

A Steel Magnolia's Guide to Coping with Mutation  
  
The long awaited update  
  
By: Sweet Audrina  
  
Evil Hair Bleach and the Halloween Dance  
  
Authors note: Blame the lack of update on my lack of inspiration once again. I do realize how lazy I am some of the time...most of the time. Debby got me off of my ass to update this so give her a great big thank you! She even put my inspiration fairy in the hospital over it, but she's recovering quickly. Oh, and I used a term from "Bridget Jones's Diary" in this chapter, the wonderful oft used word "singleton". Oh, and I don't own Devo, or Spike and Drusilla, or The Godfather...but I do mention them.  
  
The Halloween dance was closely approaching; here there and everywhere, the sounds of preparations were being made. Trips into the city were frequent. Most of the frequent visits, however, were unauthorized and un-chaperoned. Most of the students that didn't want to brave the city for costumes were content to try and use the resources at the mansion, or bribe the braver ones for the more exotic materials.  
  
Kitty and Jubilee had managed to gather up a few dateless losers like themselves, and devised a costume scheme so perfect, so thoughtfully made up, that it almost drove them to tears. They were going as Devo, the 1980's pop rock band, as seen in the "Whip It" music video.  
  
"And if you didn't have a date, you could've been the guy with the keyboard, Rogue," Jubilee grumbled, bitterly shoving half of a Zebra cake into her mouth. All three of them were casually lounging in the rec room, stuffing their faces with various sweets, as was the breakfast ritual.  
  
"I thought you were happy that Remy asked me to the dance!" She exclaimed, unwrapping her own snack cake.  
  
"We are happy for you, Rogue, it's just that..."  
  
"What, Kitty, what's wrong?"  
  
"Well...now you can't really be a part of the Singleton Club, can you?" Rogue's eyes widened angrily.  
  
"Of course I'm still part of the Singleton Club! It's just a dance...I invented the Singleton Club for Xavier's Dateless Students, you can't kick me out of my own invention!"  
  
"We aren't kicking you out, Rogue. Nice job, Kitty," Jubilee replied coolly.  
  
"You brought it up, Jubes!"  
  
"Well, I'll finish the discussion. Holy shit, "The Godfather" is on T.V. again... anyway, Rogue, what are you and your Cajun lover going as this year?" All three pairs of eyes were glued to the screen as Sonny proceeded to beat Connie's abusive husband within and inch of his life.  
  
"Well, we kind of decided on going as Spike and Drusilla, but Remy's worried about bleaching his hair, so we're not sure."  
  
"Ooo that would be perfect! Tell Remy not to worry, I'm going to do his hair," Jubilee informed with a little smile on her face. Kitty gulped.  
  
"What are you gulping at, you silly twit?"  
  
"Nothing, Jubes."  
  
"Yeah, I'll be sure to tell him," Rogue stated.  
  
"Good! Then we can all work on your dress as well...something low cut, no doubt."  
  
"Yeah, we can go into the Home Ec. room and ask Logan to put it together and everything," Kitty replied, taking a sip from her blue- raspberry slushy.  
  
"Or we could just buy it," Jubes suggested, not getting the sarcasm.  
  
Remy LeBeau was terrified. He clutched the arms of the wooden dining room chair he was seated on until his knuckles turned white, and fidgeted under the itchy towel that was wrapped stubbornly around his neck. Sitting across from him, smiling encouragingly was Rogue.  
  
"I'm really sorry, Remy, she wouldn't let me make an appointment to have a professional do this," Rogue apologized, patting one of his hands affectionately with her gloved one.  
  
"I AM a professional!" Jubilee announced, waltzing into the kitchen with her hands sheathed in rubber gloves. Kitty followed behind her with a bottle of foul smelling bleach, and a comb.  
  
"Anything for you, cher," Remy replied, managing a weak smile at Jubilee as she made her way to his chair.  
  
"You'd better not stain that chair, Jubes, Mr. Summers will be really pissed if you get more bleach on the chair than on Remy's head," Kitty warned.  
  
"Would you quit nagging me? These chairs will go right back into the dining room as good as new...although, they would make better blondes than brunettes."  
  
"If it's not to much to ask, girls, could you possibly just get this over with, please?" Remy begged. Jubilee delivered a quick smack to the back of his head. He winced.  
  
"Quiet you!"  
  
Quite some time later, Remy's head was under the sink, and Jubilee was scrubbing the substance from his hair with great relish. Kitty and Rogue were on either sides of the sink, waiting fearfully for the final results.  
  
Under the callous treatment of Jubilee in regards to the rinsing of his hair, Remy was compelled to let out a few French curse words under his breath.  
  
"Yeah, yeah, same to your mother, Remy," Jubilee replied.  
  
The final results were actually quite good. Remy's auburn tresses had achieved the desired blondeness of Rogue's beloved dream vampire lover, a fact that had her two friends a bit envious...until they looked at the back of his head.  
  
"I can fix it," Jubilee stated quickly. Kitty just stared, blinked a few times, and then walked out of the kitchen.  
  
"What?" Remy asked in a panicky voice.  
  
"Don't worry, sugar, there's just a little bit of...orange," Rogue explained in a reassuring tone.  
  
"A little bit? Rogue, it's about the size of a baseball!" Rogue swatted at Jubilee, who carefully dodged the blow.  
  
"I can fix it," she repeated going for the bleach bottle once more. Remy stood up quickly, and backed away from the chair.  
  
"No, Jubes, I'm taking Remy to the city to get this fixed. Your dyeing days are over!" With that, she took Remy's hand, and they fled the kitchen.  
  
"Dammit!" Jubilee swore, starting to clean up the mess she made.  
  
Logan, somehow, had been convinced to chaperone the Halloween dance...and he really wished he had said no. If Scott had asked him, he would've given him a negative answer, and even the same with Ororo.....but no, Xavier had been the one to request it. The one person who would be able to see through ANY excuse to get out of the responsibility. What was he supposed to tell him, "Oh, no, I've got a long night of going out drinking with several attractive nameless women"? That wouldn't fly at all. The stupidest thing about it...they expected him to wear a costume.  
  
Logan was sure that even when he was a child, he hated Halloween. There was no way that he, as an adult, could hate it so much, without it being rooted in something with his forgotten childhood. His mom had probably made him wear some lame bunny outfit instead of something cool, like a Superman costume, public humiliation ensuing. Yes, that explained everything.  
  
So there he was, standing sentry at the punch table, wearing his everyday clothing, only they were slightly ripped and bloody, a plastic machete clutched in his right hand.  
  
He surveyed the masses with extreme boredom until she waltzed into the room. Her, and that Cajun asshole she was always hanging on. Logan hated that boy. He hated him from the first time he caught his Marie giving that boy the doe eyes.  
  
He looked like some sort of freaky nancy-boy to Logan, with the peroxide blonde hair, and the full-length leather duster...were his nails painted black? Yes, they were. What the hell was he trying to be?  
  
She, however, looked nearer to perfection than what Logan had ever seen in his entire life. The two white streaks in her hair had been covered in a temporary brunette dye for her costume. Her hair had been pulled back away from her face, held by bobby pins, and the ends had been brushed and curled so they shone brilliantly as her hair cascaded down her back elegantly. Not much had been done for makeup, just some coloring around her eyes to make them stand out dramatically. The dress was a cross between being obscenely girlish and heart-stopping eroticism. It was white, with puffed cap sleeves, a low scooping neckline, and an empire waist, something that could've very well been worn in the regency period. Her breasts had been pushed up to reveal a bit more cleavage than was modest, and Logan could not for the life of him, stop staring.  
  
All in all, it was the best costume he had seen since the freaks with the funny hats had arrived.  
  
She noticed shortly after he had noticed her. She raised a gloved hand and waved frantically, running over to him, abandoning Remy completely.  
  
"Logan, hi!" She stopped a few feet away from him, breathing a bit heavily from running all the way across the ballroom.  
  
"Hey kid. Can't say I approve of that get-up, or the accessory you brought with you," he said gruffly, referring to Remy, who was approaching them at his own pace.  
  
"Oh, honestly, it's something Drusilla would wear, and it's Halloween, and I'm old enough to show off this much skin. As for Remy..."  
  
"What about me, cher?" Remy inquired, wrapping his arms around Rogue's waist from behind, and smirking at Logan.  
  
"Nothing Remy, Logan was just complimenting us on our costume choices."  
  
"Sure I was, darlin'. Just tell the Cajun here that if he tries anything funny I'll rip out his heart and feed it to him, clear?" He didn't wait for a reply; he was angrily stalking away from the both of them. Rogue was grinning to herself, quite satisfied with his little outburst.  
  
"Let's dance, sugar."  
  
End of Chapter 


	6. Hearts break, and Magneto probably stole...

A Steel Magnolia's Guide to Mutation  
  
Chapter six  
  
Authors note: Here it is Debby, I should be good for another few weeks...right? Well anyway, I needed to be a teensy bit of angst into this chapter. Not too much, mind you, just enough...like Bridget Jones angst sort of, enough angst to keep it a light-hearted romantic comedy.  
  
Journal,  
  
The bottom has finally dropped out from under me. Here stands the DUMBEST girl that ever lived.  
  
You see, I like Remy...a lot, but as usual, my feelings for Logan overpowered my feelings for Remy, and my whole relationship with my favorite Cajun sweetheart has been no more than an attempt at making Logan jealous. It worked.  
  
After Logan walked out of the dance, I felt this urge to follow him. I was dancing with Remy for a whole minute before this urge hit me. I made some stupid excuse along the lines of I had to go reapply my face. The stupidity of this excuse was that the bathroom was in clear sight of Remy and I made a beeline for the other direction. Smart, right?  
  
Logan was standing outside in the front entrance of the school, leaning up against a wall and smoking a cigar. God, he's sexy! I never could stand a boy that smoked, but something about him...Anyway, getting off track! I approached him, and he barely acknowledged my presence. Here is a faithful account of the conversation that followed:  
  
"Logan," I said softly. He turned his eyes towards me.  
  
"What exactly do you think you're playing at, Marie?"  
  
"I don't know what you're talking about..."  
  
"Don't play dumb with me, you know exactly what I'm talking about."  
  
"What if I do? How am I supposed to answer that?"  
  
"Let's try honestly."  
  
Well shit, here goes, I thought.  
  
"I'm just a silly little girl attempting to see if you feel even a fraction of what I feel for you, satisfied?" He didn't answer me for the longest time, and I was ready to go back to the dance. I started to turn.  
  
"Hold on, Marie. I think you knew how I felt long before I did."  
  
"How could I be sure, Mr. Repress-every-little-thing-I-feel-because- feelings-are-for-pussies?"  
  
"Fair enough...the point is, what you're doing is cruel, and even though I like the Cajun about as much as the next pain-in-the-ass, I don't like you stringing him along like that. I also hate that you take every opportunity you have to rub him in my face...those are below the belt tactics, and I don't like people who hit below the belt.  
  
"For the time being, I don't want to see you anytime other than when you have my class. I don't think I have anything else to say to you for awhile, so just keep your distance."  
  
By the time he finished saying this, I was a breath away from breaking down. I held it in, though.  
  
"Why are you doing this? If you care about me, and I care about you, what else is there?"  
  
"The conversation is over, Marie. We'll talk about this later, for now, I don't need to see your face."  
  
This was bad. Very, VERY bad. This wasn't part of my plan at all! Just when I thought it couldn't get worse, on my way back into the school I saw Remy.  
  
"You heard the whole thing, didn't you?" I asked. He nodded.  
  
"I like you, cher. I think up until now I might've even loved you a little...but I'm not going to play second best to anyone."  
  
The tears came on their own accord.  
  
"I'm sorry, Remy!"  
  
"It's okay, cher, I understand. I can't be a part of this anymore, though. Find someone else to be your dupe."  
  
And there it is. Logan can't even look at me; Remy's upset, and I've been thrown back into Singleton status with a vengeance. There is no other option.  
  
I need to get away from all of this for a little while. Prepare yourself, Journal, your ass is going to be at the bottom of a backpack for a little bit.  
  
Rogue  
  
Rogue hastily threw her journal into her backpack, followed by a flurry of undergarments, a few pairs of jeans, t-shirts, and an official Xavier Institute hoodie sweatshirt. She bemoaned the fact that her funding was low, as usual. Her discarded Halloween costume lay crumpled on the floor, and her roommates snored noisily in their beds, oblivious to the fact that their best friend was about to fly the coop. The whole house was exhausted from the events earlier that night, and Rogue herself was having trouble staying awake, as she carefully packed her necessities.  
  
This was to be a temporary trip, just long enough for her to gather her thoughts, and see the two men she had wronged without wanting to die of embarrassment.  
  
The brisk coldness hit Rogue hard as she stepped into the night air. She quickly pulled the red knit cap Kitty's mother had made for her over last year's Christmas break over her ears, and tied the strings securely under her chin. She exchanged her usual opera length gloves for the thick red wool mittens that were meant to match the cap. It had to be the coldest weather Rogue had ever run away in.  
  
"Who built the ark? Noah, Noah. Who built the ark? Noah built the ark," Rogue sang to herself, to get her mind off of the cold, and the fact that she could be sleeping peacefully in a heated room by now.  
  
"But you're a silly girl who thinks all problems can be solved by running away," she told herself out loud.  
  
"Shut up, self," she answered, before realizing how stupid she appeared.  
  
Rogue's destination was the train-station once again. Although, it didn't seem to take that long to walk there last time...was she lost? Rogue realized what with all of the inner-turmoil and singing to herself, she had taken a wrong turn, and was now in unfamiliar territory.  
  
"Shit!"  
  
"Nice one, dumb-ass," the self-deprecating side of her brain remarked.  
  
"Okay, anyone could've made this mistake!"  
  
"Yeah, but how many times have you run away from the institute...six?"  
  
"Just the once, thank you very much!"  
  
"Having troubles, Miss?" Came a voice from above.  
  
"God?"  
  
"Look up and guess again."  
  
Rogue turned, and looked up towards the voice. Her heart dropped to her stomach when she saw none other than Magneto, hovering above her in a craft that she assumed was stolen. That went double for the megaphone he held in one hand.  
  
"As if my day couldn't get any worse," Rogue grumbled, too cold to feel any real fear.  
  
End of Chapter 


	7. Magneto's place, a weird conversation, a...

A Steel Magnolia's Guide to Mutation  
  
Chapter 7  
  
Authors note: Hi, it's me again, but updating much, much earlier than what I planned. I hope you're happy Miss Debby!  
  
"Oh, hi Magneto," Rogue greeted dryly. The man in the hovering aircraft looked slightly taken back by her response.  
  
"What, no screaming for help? No fleeing from me like a frightened rabbit?"  
  
"Do your worse."  
  
Magneto motioned to the unseen pilot, and the craft landed softly onto the road. Rogue quickly backed into the ditch, to avoid imminent squishing. The old man walked over to Rogue, gazing down threateningly at her.  
  
"You don't even have the common sense to be scared."  
  
"Obviously not, so whatever diabolical scheme that includes me and my powers being of use to you, please get it over with."  
  
"You're a conceited little girl. Why on earth would I make the same mistake twice? Mystique just pointed out a young person walking all by her lonesome on this cold night, and suggested we give him or her a lift home. You obviously are not headed home, are you Rogue?"  
  
Rogue bristled at his assumption.  
  
"Not that it's any of your damn business, but no, I'm not headed home, and no, I don't want to talk about it. Least of all to someone who tried to kill me."  
  
"You're still hung up about that old mess?" Magneto chuckled.  
  
"It's not funny! And pardon me if I can't forgive something as little as that."  
  
"This is foolish, Rogue. You're going to freeze to death out here in that silly little hat, get in, and I'll take you back to my humble abode."  
  
"No thank you, and let's not get started on silly hats!"  
  
"Oh come now, I'm just offering you hospitality. A nice warm room for the night perhaps...or maybe some decently brewed tea, after that I will send you on your vagrant way, and I won't breathe a word of it to Charles."  
  
"No evil plots? Because if this is an evil plot, and I find out about it, they'll be able to hear me screaming in New Jersey."  
  
"I give you my word. Unless you'd rather brave the wilderness, and the blistering cold." His words made Rogue realize just how freezing she was.  
  
"Okay, but no funny business. Just tea, and a warm place to crash for the night, got it?"  
  
"Of course."  
  
Not surprisingly, once situated inside the aircraft, Magneto wrapped a blindfold over her eyes and around her head.  
  
"Just a precautionary step, my dear, you understand."  
  
"It's useless, I don't even know where I am now, and so I wouldn't be able to help the Professor hunt you down."  
  
"Exactly. Still, keep the blindfold on."  
  
About two hours later, Rogue was led from the aircraft, still blindfolded, into a building of sorts. She was seen safely down a rather long flight of stairs until finally...  
  
"Wow, I was expecting..."  
  
"A damp dank lair made of stone? That worked for a while, but Mystique wanted to give our new place a woman's touch."  
  
Rogue would later describe Magneto's lair to her friends as something out of an ad for "Pier 1 Imports". Soft inviting colors, a nice white plush carpet, and black leather furniture near a blazing fireplace. Rogue suddenly heard her name being called:  
  
"Rogue! Hey, how're you doing?" She turned towards the voice to see a smirking John. She could hardly contain her glee at seeing him again.  
  
"Pretty shitty Allerdyce, how are they treating you here?"  
  
"I can't complain. I get super-Nintendo and HBO in my room, plus there's no scrambled porn...here I get to watch it unscrambled, on a big screen, with surround sound!"  
  
"Wow. Impressive."  
  
"John, why don't you go and brew our guest some tea?" Magneto requested.  
  
"Gross...yeah, yeah, I'm going. By the way, Mystique ate all the Haagen-Dazs."  
  
"Take it up with her then."  
  
"Whatever."  
  
Rogue sat on one of Magneto's large leather couches; he was seated on an easy chair across from her. It was one of the most uncomfortable silences she had ever participated in, but it was the best tea she had ever tasted.  
  
"You train him good," she finally commented in between sips.  
  
"What's that?"  
  
"John. He can brew some pretty good tea. Last time I saw him even his kool-aid making skills were off."  
  
"Yes, well, he can be taught."  
  
Another lengthy silence.  
  
"So...ummm...you're not kidnapping me then?"  
  
"No, definitely not."  
  
"Oh."  
  
The sounds of sipping filled the air...along with more silence.  
  
"I'm tired."  
  
"Well, I'd imagine so. Let me get you some blankets...is there any place you'd like me to drop you off tomorrow morning?"  
  
"A bus station. But let's try to keep it low key, an actual car would be a good way to transport me there."  
  
"Of course. I'll see to it that Mystique drops you off first thing in the morning, which is in...three hours."  
  
"Okay, goodnight then, Magneto."  
  
"Good night, Rogue."  
  
It wasn't until Rogue had just started drifting to sleep when she realized how very odd this whole conversation had been. She then thought that it was a good thing that she didn't start asking romantic advice from her worst enemy.  
  
End of Chapter 


	8. Rayvyn Redd and the Screaming Jellybeans

A Steel Magnolia's Guide to Mutation  
  
Chapter 8  
  
Author's note: Yes, I realize what a bad evil person I am. I just am, and that's the way it is, so here's the overdue update, I have several to get done.  
  
It wasn't until late afternoon before anyone realized that Rogue was missing. This seemed impossible, seeing that she had roommates, but they had grumbled and stumbled out of their beds that morning, barely even taking notice of each other. The both of them managed a perfunctory morning greeting to their missing roommate before proceeding to the packed girl's bathroom.  
  
Sunday activity was slow around the mansion, like in all other households; it was a dragging, agonizingly dull day of the week. A few of the students got rides to the local house of worship, and the others sat around and watched the limited selection of Sunday morning programs. It was a source of a little amusement to poke fun at the tele-evangelists on channel 5.  
  
Around dinner, which was the only meal on Sunday that everyone sat down together for, Remy noticed the lack of Rogue. He went straight to Kitty and Jubilee's side of the table.  
  
"Notice anything?" He asked.  
  
Kitty and Jubilee glanced around the room, and at all the participants of the meal. Immediately they froze.  
  
"Oh my god," Kitty whispered.  
  
"Yes, it has come to your attention that Rogue is no longer here," came a strong voice from the head of the table. All eyes were on Professor X.  
  
"She's unharmed, and on her way to find a new place of residence. I do believe Mystique is helping her out with that right now."  
  
"Excuse me?!" Jubilee exclaimed.  
  
"Mystique?"  
  
"Yes Kitty, Mystique."  
  
Logan stood up, and started to leave the room hastily.  
  
"I wouldn't, Logan."  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"Because I said she's unharmed. She will remain so."  
  
"She should be here!"  
  
"But she's not. Rogue is of legal age to make her own decisions, meaning she can come and go as she pleases, as saddened as I am to see her go, I will not make any moves to stop her, and neither will anybody else."  
  
Now it was Remy's turn to stand.  
  
"I'm not going to let some old-"  
  
"Sit down Mr. LeBeau!" The professor rarely raised his voice, but when he did it was a fairly terrifying experience. Remy sat down.  
  
"As I said, Rogue will come back when she sees fit, nobody will be forcing a return on her. Now, let's get back to dinner..."  
  
Jumping forward about three months later...  
  
Rogue had taken up residence with a young man and his older sister in a comfortable loft near Time's Square. Clarence and Louisa Tuttle fancied themselves to be punk rock musicians, taking on the names Syd and Rayvyn Redd, their band being called "Rayvyn Redd and the Screaming Jellybeans". Rogue rated them at being decent at best, and they did work very hard to give Rogue an education in the pioneers of punk.  
  
Syd reminded Rogue of a character she had seen in a movie once. Tall and slender with ropey muscles in his arms, shocking blue eyes and black hair that he kept up in many, many spikes on the top of his head. The spikes were each tipped with crimson, in accordance to his sister's orders. His mode of dress was typical of his profession, but he did look marvelous in his beaten up worn down army boots, second hand army pants that were kept together by many safety pins, and a tight t-shirt that held the image of his hero, Bob Marley, on the front of it. His sister often told him to get rid of the shirt, but he adamantly refused.  
  
"I don't even really like punk rock that much," he confessed to Rogue one day.  
  
"Why are you in your sister's band then?"  
  
"I like playing drums, but I'd rather be playing them on some exotic beach to any tune but a "Sex Pistols" cover. I'd even keep my real name. Rayvyn would hate it though."  
  
"You want to have your own reggae band?"  
  
"Yeah...that would be sweet. Clarence Tuttle, the king of reggae."  
  
Rogue had to suppress a giggle at the thought of that. She knew it was mean, but she thought Clarence Tuttle was the dorkiest name she had ever heard in all of her life.  
  
Louisa Tuttle a.k.a Rayvyn Redd was one of the most controlling women that Rogue had ever met in her life. Tall and thin like her brother, only her eyes were a steely gray, her facial features were sharper, and her hair was a fried out bleached blonde. She preferred a rockabilly vintage style, complete with swing dresses, saddle shoes, and pencil skirts. She sneered at Rogue's personal style the first time she had seen her, but liked her name. She even suggested Rogue change her last name to Redd, but she had refused politely.  
  
"Alright dear, but the offer stands. I seriously suggest you get a wardrobe change, I have friends that come to this house, and you might frighten them."  
  
"But, I don't see anything wrong with my clothes..."  
  
"There's nothing extraordinary about them either. Can't you be a bit more profound?"  
  
"They're just clothes."  
  
"You may think so, but I know better."  
  
"Oh."  
  
"We'll go shopping later...and you might want to rethink the length of your hair while you're living here."  
  
"Okay."  
  
Rogue definitely knew that there would be tension between Rayvyn and herself. Rogue hated bitches, and Rayvyn hated not having control over everyone she met. This was the beginning of a definite disharmony. As fond of Syd as Rogue was, she just couldn't bring herself to like his sister.  
  
Rogue soon got a job as a waitress in a seedy gentleman's club called "Cats". It was just slightly off Broadway, hence the name. Rogue planned to never ever dance at that place, she couldn't really imagine how to dance for a group of old perverts, waving money in her direction. She got that enough just being the waitress. For extra pocket change she also helped in the costume department, mending and washing the scant costumes that the girls wore during their stage time. It was a fairly good job.  
  
In the meanwhile, Logan and Remy were conducting their own search for Rogue. Since the Professor wasn't any help, they had to rely solely on their own intellect and powers of deduction. It wasn't going so well. Plus, the two of them refused to work together on this, seeing that both of them thoroughly hated each other.  
  
As it were, after about four months of searching, the both of them simultaneously found what they were looking for. One of Logan's friends at "Cats" informed him that a young brunette with white streaks in her hair had started working at the establishment not too long ago. It didn't please Logan much to find out she was working at a sleaze bar, he assumed she was a dancer.  
  
Remy happened to know the Tuttles; he knew them as the Redds, and had met them after one of their shows not too long before the Halloween dance. He thought Rayvyn was a pretentious bitch, but he had liked Syd immensely. He also thought their band was rubbish. He had bumped into Syd one day during his search of the city, and Syd casually let it slip about a new female roommate who he thought was absolutely adorable, and he wanted to someday get the courage to ask her out. When Remy asked what this adorable woman looked like, Syd replied, "Real pretty, a nice little brunette with white streaks in her hair. She's always got these gloves on, which I'll never understand..."  
  
Shortly after Syd was forced to tell Remy where Rogue was working, and in a flash, he was hurrying to save his innocent Rogue from the evils of ten-dollar lap dances.  
  
End of Chapter 


	9. Pretty Young Things

A Steel Magnolia's Guide to Mutation  
  
Chapter: 9  
  
Author's note: I don't believe you guys had to wait a terrible long time for this chapter...right? Well anyway, the famous Debby is lording over what gets put in this chapter since she happens to be sitting to my left. I'm scared.  
  
"Cats" at nine o'clock at night on a Saturday. Business was booming. Rogue was frantically going from table to table, taking down orders on a writing pad that was rapidly running out of paper. She felt a sharp pain as Billy-John Johnson, resident old harmless pervert, pinched her bottom. She turned around and tried to look cross at the old man, who was laughing.  
  
"Now see here Mr. Johnson..."  
  
"Don't take it personal sweetheart, I'm just messing with you, you're very pretty when you get angry."  
  
"Someday I'm going to slap you right across your ugly old face, nasty codger....." She said this all with a hesitant smile on her face.  
  
"And then next Saturday I'll pinch your ass again," he told her confidently. She just shook her head and waited on her next table.  
  
Somewhere a few blocks away, Logan was quickly approaching aforementioned destination with murder on his mind. Disturbing images of his Rogue dancing for strange drunk, evil men were flashing through his mind, and he definitely did not like it. If he didn't control his rage soon, there would definitely be a mass neutering at "Cats" once he arrived.  
  
"This is all that damned Cajun's fault. I'll kill him too..." he muttered as the neon sign of "Cats" became prominent.  
  
A few blocks in the other direction, Remy LeBeau was approaching with a calmer demeanor, and a feeling of dread for his absent friend. He knew for certain that his romantic feelings for Rogue were starting to fade into a more brotherly concern for her well-being. He definitely didn't want to think about the old perverts that were most definitely trying to grope her ass at that very moment. It wasn't a pretty thought. He should've given Syd a good talking to for allowing her to work at a place like that.  
  
"This is all Logan's fault."  
  
Back at club, Rogue was called to the backroom to make last minute alterations to Ginger Day's costume. Well, more like alteration to her two scraps of clothing that she was planning on wearing in a half an hour. Sitting at her worktable, she began working on sewing on a few more sequins, because apparently Ginger had complained about its lack of sparkle. She was a bit of an evil troll bitch to be around, and was another person on Rogue's list to beat the crap out of on a cold day in hell.  
  
Ginger hovered closely over Rogue's shoulder, barking orders over where each sequin was to be placed. Rogue's fingers were shaking with the effort to keep her cool. The Logan inside of her wanted to scratch up Ginger's delicate porcelain face to little shreds. However, she resisted. She really, really hated redheads, even unnatural ones like Ginger, who was apparently really a dishwater blonde. The dark red of the costume was bound to look horrendous with Ginger's new bright carroty color.  
  
"I'm finished," Rogue proclaimed, setting down the needle and thread. Ginger picked it up and inspected it with a disgusted look on her face.  
  
"It seems to be okay, but I don't want to try it on right away and end up looking like a damned fool. You try it on, little girl. If it looks good on you then it will look sensational on me."  
  
Rogue rolled her eyes and retreated to a dressing cubicle without a word. She emerged a minute or two later in full costume. Ginger was not there.  
  
"Ginger, I'm wearing it." No reply.  
  
"Damn it, Ginger, come get your fucking costume!" No reply. Rogue noticed a small note on the table. "Went out front for a cig. You took too long. I want to see the costume so come out front or I won't wear it. -Ginger."  
  
"Oh hell no!" Rogue cried. She knew what this was. Ginger, for some reason, had a deep resentment for Rogue, and this was all an elaborately planned humiliation for her. It had to be. Everyone that worked at "Cats" considered Rogue to be a prude, and it would be a great joke to see her walk out wearing next to nothing. They all wanted to see her blushing face close to tears so they could tease and make fun. It was then where Rogue realized that she would walk out to the front of the club, and she would do it with confidence, and she would carry herself as a sexy sophisticated not prudish girl, and wouldn't they be surprised.  
  
"Here goes nothing."  
  
It was about that time when Logan and Remy stepped into the club at the exact same time. The both of them looked at each other with hatred burning in their eyes.  
  
"What the hell are you doing here?" Logan growled.  
  
"Taking Rogue away from this place."  
  
"What a coincidence..."  
  
"If you've got something to say, Logan, you should say it."  
  
"I hate you."  
  
"Well I would hate you, but the fact that you care for Rogue speaks highly for you. It appears you have some taste."  
  
"Thanks, smart ass."  
  
"Shut up, there she is."  
  
Both sets of eyes were drawn to a figure emerging from the backroom. It was Rogue, dressed in a costume that was even inappropriate for a Victoria's Secret model. She was smiling confidently at those around her...until her eyes were drawn to the entrance.  
  
"Oh holy shit."  
  
Remy stood there gaping, a little bit grateful for her state of undress. Very unbrotherly scenarios were running through his mind. Logan approached her, taking off his leather jacket and wrapping her in it.  
  
"Who made you wear this?" He demanded.  
  
"N-nobody..."  
  
"Don't lie."  
  
"Ginger Day."  
  
"I don't know who the hell she is, but you're not working here anymore, that's for damn sure." He started to usher her out of the club, and that's when she snapped.  
  
"Don't touch me! You can't tell me where I can and can't work, Logan, you're not my dad, you're not my husband, or my boyfriend, and last time I checked I didn't think you even wanted to be my friend, so leave me the hell alone."  
  
"If you are going to parade around like a whore, then I WILL tell you what to do, and even if you don't listen, I will KEEP telling you what to do!"  
  
"Why? Why bother? Why can't you just leave me be?"  
  
Remy was pulled out of his trance and was fixated on the intense argument. He didn't dare contribute.  
  
"Because you're mine, Rogue."  
  
Rogue was floored. She struggled hard for a retaliation statement, and opted to storm out of the club, still wearing his jacket.  
  
"Don't walk away, I'm not finished talking to you."  
  
She turned back to him.  
  
"You're not talking to me, you're screaming at me. When you can distinguish one from the other, please contact me." She had managed to hail a cab before this, and in a flash of yellow, she was gone.  
  
End of Chapter 


	10. In which our heroine gets throuroughly k...

A Steel Magnolia's Guide to Mutation  
  
Chapter 10  
  
By Sweet Audrina  
  
Author's note: It appears our little tale is finally winding down...depending on my mood this may or may not be the final chapter. If at the end of this chapter it appears there is a cliffhanger, than no, this is not the final chapter. If however the words "The End" appear, then this truly is the end. Am writing this whilst Debby watches "Gremlins 2" in my living room. She has no idea what I'm doing right now. Teeheehee.  
  
"Home so early?" Syd asked as Rogue practically flew through the front door. She gave him a distinct "don't ask" look, and discarded Logan's jacket unto the floor.  
  
"If he comes back for it, I'm not here!" Syd flinched as the sound of the bathroom door slamming reverberated throughout the entire house.  
  
"Who's he?" Syd asked no one in particular, picking up the jacket, and hanging it up in an orderly fashion on the coat rack she had missed by a mere 10 feet. Syd was then bombarded by the sounds of Rogue crying very loudly from within her bathroom hideaway.  
  
"Sweetheart, what's wrong?" Syd was immediately camped by the door, knocking on it gently.  
  
"I ran into the people I used to live with today, and I'm dressed like a whore!"  
  
"Now, come one, you look really nice..."  
  
"Shut up!"  
  
"Okay, well I don't suggest you ever go around New York dressed like that again...have you been dancing for that nasty place?"  
  
"N-no!" Came the indignant cry from the other side of the door.  
  
"Well that's good. You shouldn't even be waiting tables there; I don't know what Rayvyn was thinking when she set you up with that job."  
"Fuck your stupid sister! This is all her fault...and that goddamn whore Ginger Day..."  
  
"Excuse me?!" Rayvyn had happened to pass by the most inopportune moment. Ginger Day was one of her best friends, adding insult to the injury.  
  
"Go away Rayvyn," Syd whispered harshly. She gave him the look of death before heading out the front door.  
  
"Is she gone?"  
  
"Yeah, she just left."  
  
"...I'm sorry. It's just been a really crappy day, Syd. I didn't mean to snap at you, or insult your sister."  
  
"It's okay. She had it coming anyway."  
  
"Right?"  
  
"Now, darling, why don't you come out of that bathroom and I'll make you a pop-tart and fix you a nice cup of Swiss Miss."  
  
"Okay." The door opened. Rogue's face was streaked with tears, and she was sniffling to keep her nose from running.  
  
"Maybe you should get dress too, I'm only a man, Rogue," Syd added nervously when he caught another glance at her attire.  
  
A half an hour later, Rogue was sitting across from Syd at the kitchen table, clad in pink flannel pajamas. The non-threatening kind with yellow duckies. She had repeated her tale of woe and angst to his listening ears. He had a great deal of tolerance for female emotional trials.  
  
"So, you're in love with this guy, Logan, but you were dating Remy?"  
  
"Yeah, and I knew I was doing it to make him jealous, and I feel wretched about it now. Remy's one of the good ones, you know, but me and Logan...it's different."  
  
"Must've been quite a shock for the both of them to see you dressed the way you were."  
  
"I think I may have actually seen steam coming from Logan's ears. Remy just stared."  
  
"After that, you pretty much told the love of your life to fuck off, and without a word to either, you sped away wearing whore gear."  
  
"Exactly."  
  
Syd sighed deeply, and sipped his cocoa.  
  
"Poor Rogue."  
  
"You're not going to judgmental on me, are you?"  
  
"I don't do judgmental, sweetie."  
  
"I'm a big mess."  
  
"Now, now. These things can be mended, I'm sure a solution will come running through the door sooner or later."  
  
It was sooner. The door to the apartment was flung open, and in walked Logan, followed quickly by Remy.  
  
"Are you okay, cher?" Remy was the first one to say anything.  
  
"I'm fine."  
  
"Hey, Remy," Syd greeted. Rogue's eyes widened as she looked from Syd to Remy.  
  
"You both know each other?"  
  
"We've met once or twice before," Syd explained.  
  
"That's so fucking touching. Marie, are you coming home or not?" This was Logan. Rogue's heart skipped a beat when he used her real name.  
  
"That all depends," she replied coolly.  
  
"On what?"  
  
"On how things are going to be when I get back."  
  
"They'll be the same, of course."  
  
"What about between us?"  
  
"Remy, I think I saw a really neat guitar shop across the street I want to show you," announced Syd. The two of them quickly vacated the premises. Logan and Rogue were now very much alone.  
  
"What about between us, Logan?" Rogue repeated.  
  
Logan shrugged.  
  
"That's what I thought. You told me I was yours, and you act all insane anytime I'm even near a male that isn't you, but you don't want things to change. You're still free to do as you damn well please, and I'm supposed to wait at the mansion and be your sweet darling little Marie, virginal, untouchable, and sweet. I'm not going to stay like that anymore. With the new control I'm getting over my powers, and this freedom I have to go as I please, I'm not a simpering sixteen-year-old girl anymore. Damn it, Logan, I want things to be different between us. I want you to have the feelings that I've had for you for years! It's what I want and it's the one thing you refuse to give-" She was cut off, Logan had grabbed her roughly and pulled her into a hungry, jealous kiss. She fought for control over her powers, and won. When he finally let go of her, she was left gasping for air.  
  
"What was that?" She asked.  
  
"A change."  
  
"So...you want me? You're not going to push me away?"  
  
Again, he shrugged.  
  
"That's not good enough, I need a vocal answer. Do you want to be with me or not?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Yes what?"  
  
"Yes I want to be with you."  
  
"Good."  
  
The apartment door opened again. Remy and Syd entered, showing no signs of being outdoors. It was evident that they had been listening.  
  
"If you hurt her..." Remy warned.  
  
"Relax, Cajun."  
  
"Well, I'm glad this has all been sorted out...you know, Remy, my sister is currently unavailable."  
  
"I wonder why," Remy mused sarcastically.  
  
"I guess this means you'll be leaving us, Rogue," Syd commented, sadly.  
  
"For now. Give Rayvyn my fondest regards."  
  
"I will."  
  
Diary of Rogue  
  
I can safely say this year didn't suck. I'm seeing Logan, Remy and I are still speaking, Kurt and Ororo got engaged while I was gone, and I am really drunk off of the crappy welcome home wine Kitty and Jubes managed to steal for me. Happiness is in the air. I really am happy, which is weird, because I usually never am. This wine is starting to taste kind of nice...I'm no connoisseur of wines, but this isn't bad as the first glass I had. Well anyway, I'm going to end this entry with the hope that this good feeling is going to last for a while, I'm not going to say marriage but...God this wine is good. Well, I'm off to sneak into the city with the girls, this time it's karaoke. Farewell for now, and forgive the spreading stain of purple stuff on this page, I spilled.  
  
Shit, Logan just caught us drinking.  
  
Goodnight,  
  
Rogue  
  
The End 


End file.
